Just sitting here...

Well, I am just sitting here, I should be sleeping, but Jake went to bed super late tonight - note to self, NEVER give a two year old a chocolate cupcake for dessert; and I need some Tara time, i can't ever sleep until I write or read.

I love to write, never have I realized how healing it is for me. I still have my dorky journals from third grade. The teacher always made us write about our day, what we were doing or going to do. I'm not sure if she realized that third graders didn't have that much going on, or maybe it was just me, so my friend and I, on a regular basis made crazy crazy things up about our daily adventures - I think I didn't consider it lying because it was so funny (bad moral lesson I know...) My teacher never fell for our schemes, as the pages of my journal are packed with comments like, "oh really?!" or "did you tell your mother about that one?" Nevertheless, I'm glad they made us journal from an early age, not only have the pages of my journals stored incredible memories, and every weekly crush I had in school, but they also hold deep lessons that I have learned throughout the years.

I am writing a book, a book about the love and life that Preston and I shared. I don't know if it is something that will be publishable, they might just write me back with a big sticky note saying, "Try writing childrens books instead" on it, but at least my children can see the legacy and life that their father left behind. My goal to have the book done is fall of 2O10, not published by then, just finished on my end. Maybe if I tell you I'll be more motivated to finish! I'm thinking of taking some writing classes, a friend did and said it was awesome. I don't want my book to be just another book about the lessons of grief, although some of that is inevitable, so as i write I'm trusting that God will lead and direct my words and make it into something beautiful and useful.

The writing process is so amazing to me. As I write each part of our life together I grieve that time. For a moment I get to relive the past, although it's not half as good as the real thing i consider it a gift to be absorbed in memories for even just a little while. When I think of Preston ever day i remember such a faint part of such a detailed picture. So when I write I remember little things, invaluable things like fondue night, or how we celebrated the arrival of my green card, or how I felt when I saw him walk through the door each day.

Maybe this is a gift more to myself than to my boys... hmm...

I am also realizing through looking at our past, that there are certain areas of our life that I haven't dealt with, areas that I didn't do so good in and things that I should change, or areas that i'm a little bitter about (ew I hate bitterness) and on a good note, there are areas where I totally stunk at something but I don't anymore and it's amazing to see the growth.

As I step into each journey we walked and then step out, I am able to say goodbye to Preston and Tara. Not goodbye like, so long, fairwell, I hope I never see you again, but goodbye enough to cherish the memories instead of desperately wishing I was there instead of here. I am embracing the past and allowing God to mold me through it so that I can somehow have a healthy and hopefully happy future. It's hearbreaking, incredible, surreal, beautiful and a whole mix of emotion to write "our story" but I think in years to come I'll be so glad I took this walk and wrote all I did....

Ok, enough about me! Has journaling been healing for you?